


Weeping Harlequin

by CalicoYorki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Spoilers, Spoilers For Act 6 Up The Yin Yang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:58:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoYorki/pseuds/CalicoYorki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No witless blithering for this one. This and the previous fanfic were the spawn of an entire day with no power,  and a laptop with a charged-up battery. Spoiler Alert: the title is a double entendre of non-naughty providence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weeping Harlequin

Your name is CALLIOPE, a LIMEBLOODED CHERUB. You are SO VERY LONELY, and SO VERY AFRAID. It is DARK. You cannot SEE, HEAR, SMELL, TASTE, or FEEL ANYTHING. Well, you can FEEL, in a FASHION AKIN TO PHYSICAL STIMULUS. How to put this? As the MUSE OF SPACE, you were always going to be BEATEN TO THE PUNCH by YOUR "BROTHER." (And by your logic, he is NOT NOW, NEVER WAS, and certainly NEVER WILL BE A REAL SIBLING. You've learned enough from THE HUMAN CHILDREN to know whom you can call YOUR REAL BROTHERS AND SISTERS). 

CALIBORN is the LORD OF TIME, the most ACTIVE CLASS. THE MUSE is THE MOST PASSIVE CLASS GOING. If you had only TAKEN HIM SERIOUSLY, if you had only RECOGNIZED HIS POTENTIAL to SURPASS THE STAGE OF NUISANCE and skedaddle right into THREAT TO REALITY - Well, you've never spent time on the BROTHERS THREE: COULDA, SHOULDA, AND WOULDA. Making a HABIT OF IT NOW won't regain your BEING. Now, WHERE WERE YOU? Ah, yes. You were JUST ABOUT TO TELL THE LOVELY READERS what in the BLUE BLAZES you meant by "FEELING, IN A FASHION AKIN TO PHYSICAL STIMULUS." Well, though Caliborn may have indefinite control of your BODY, your HEART AND MIND can never, in an eternity and a day, be ROBBED FROM YOU BY THE LIKES OF THAT SWINE. Your POWERS OF SPACE have begun to stir from the GNAWING ABSENCE OF CORPOREAL SENSES.

As a result, the SPACEY THING will be BLOODY STRONG WITH YOU once you're freed. You can't think IF YOU'RE FREED, for if you do, ALL HOPE IS LOST. You can't bear the thought that HOPE MAY HAVE BEEN LOST for LONGER THAN YOU DARE TO FEAR, if the stories of JAKE'S DREAMSELF BEING KILLED are ANY KIND OF EVIDENCE. However, you must FOCUS ON SPACE. You can FEEL SPACE. It's RIPPLING AROUND CALIBORN, distorted in a MOST AWFUL FASHION. You SHAN'T LET YOUR THOUGHTS stray to WHATEVER HE MAY HAVE COOKED UP. Caliborn has NEVER BEEN KEEN on OBEYING THE RULES if it should ever mean LOSING, and it was a MATTER OF TIME before he stopped IGNORING THE RULES and learned to PERVERT THE GAME TO MEET HIS WANTS. Whatever could be THE RESULT of the TERRIBLE THING he's done; IT'S MASSIVE, IT'S CONSUMING EVERYTHING NEAR IT, IT'S GROWING EVERY LAST DREADFUL MOMENT, and it is BENDING BOTH OF YOUR ASPECTS AROUND IT.

To be frank, you know very well that THE LUNATIC HAS GONE AND MADE A BLACK HOLE. You also can postulate as to the HOW, and the WHY. The DEVIL OF A CHERUB must have been planning this for GOODNESS KNOWS HOW LONG. And now, you're stripped of everything you could possibly use to defeat him. You may have the SPACEY THING, but even if you could trump his TIMEY THING somehow, if by SOME UPENDING OF ALL PREVIOUS FACTS you could extricate YOUR IDENTITY from his NOW FULLY-CONTROLLED BODY, without a PHYSICAL BODY nor a DREAM BODY to act as your medium, it can lend NOT ONE LICK OF HELP TO DEFEATING HIM, ONCE AND FOR ALL.

FOR THE TIME BEING, you can do naught but PRAY FOR TEARS TO WEEP, A HEART TO BEAT, A SMILE TO SHARE, AND SOMEONE TO CARE. You pray for an HEIR to PASS ON YOUR KNOWLEDGE TO. You pray for a SEER to SHOW YOU THE WAY TO SECURITY. You pray for a KNIGHT to be your CHAMPION AND PROTECTOR. You pray for a WITCH to WEAVE CHARMS AND SPIN YARNS UNTIL YOU'RE NOT QUITE SO FRIGHTENED. You pray for a PRINCE to GIVE YOUR SOUL A PURPOSE. You pray for a PAGE to REKINDLE THE HOPE YOU'VE LOST. You pray for a ROGUE to STEAL YOU OUT OF THE DARKNESS, so that a MAID can CONSOLE YOU UNTIL LIFE IS WORTH LIVING AGAIN.

You know THEY WILL BE COMING FOR YOU. And when FATE TWISTS, HEAVEN AND HELL UNRAVEL, AND THE NATURAL ORDER NO LONGER ABIDES BY CALIBORN'S INFERNAL TAMPERING with the WAY THINGS SHOULD BE,

You, CALLIOPE, will NO LONGER CARE if you're a MUSE or a GODDESS, a MONSTER, or JUST A GIRL PLAYING PRETEND LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES.

You are going to BRING A WAR to that SACK OF SHIT CALIBORN.


End file.
